Cinco de Mayo
by john6lisa
Summary: AU Bering and Wells for this festive day. A little history ala B&W with a bit of snag and bag.


Helena de Abulia stood tall at the walls of Puebla, her smirk glossing over high cheekbones as she watched the French crimson cake the golden sands just outside the walls of her home.

Thirteen hours into the bloody battle, her husband falling within minutes of the attack, she garnered his sword, instructing her fellow villagers to flank the enemy, attacking at their weakest points.

Her darken, battle worn eyes were drawn upon glistening green from the distance, both narrowing on one another as they gathered their forces. Her heart skipping a beat at the gallant effort of the French lieutenant, her horse buckling under the on salute of bullets that fell the brindle stallion she rode upon.

Her eyes diverting to the cries of her fellow townsmen as they fought off the last, pitiful push from the west flank of the town's wall.

"Abulia!"

The shouts of her fellow compadres causing her to release the French Lieutenant from her sights. Helena raced to the fortified wall, unleashing a barrage of cannon fire that leveled what little was left of the French that was charging up to the wall.

A flash of wild curls garnered her corner eye, her sight filled with red as she turned, her heart racing to the hilt of her throat.

"Christina!"

"Abulia!" Pedro cried out, the soft thud of his knife reverberating as he pulled it out of the now stained Blue battle jackets of the Frenchmen he fell.

"Hold fast!" she shouted as she raced to the far side of town, her humble home, just a few jogs away. Her eyes wide as she spotted the crumbled wall near that laid in ruins near her abode, the crumbled form of her nanny lay sprawled against the door. The dark, curly locks now becoming amber with the draw of the blood that pooled around her head.

Her heart raced almost as fast as her feet, her husband's sword dropping at her feet. The race between French curls and black Mexican hair was upon the two. Eyes mirroring as the two raced to the opening, Helena realizing the French woman had weaved her way into the walls of her city.

"Conyo!" Helena cursed as the wave of amber followed close, a shadow in her eyes as she raced to her daughter. Helena choked down the tears as she bounded over the bloody body of her childhood friend.

"My God bless your soul, Leena." Helena whispered.

Helena slammed the door shut, a wave of darkness enveloping her, "Christina!" she shouted in a hushed tone as she frantically searched under the bed, tossing it up at her frustration.

"Mumma?" the pleading sobs were soft, Helena tracing the soft sniffles until they grew louder.

"My darling," Helena blew out a rushed sigh, her girl racing to her arms as she collapsed onto her knees. "My heart," Helena repeated over and over as she tightened her grip on the young girl, peppering her dark locks with kisses.

"J' abandonne! Tu as' gagne'!" The curly haired French lieutenant shouting as she burst through the door. Green eyes trained on the two as her shoulder froze. The two in her sight as she aimed her rifle.

"Please, my girl!" Helena pleaded in English, shoving her little girl behind her, her hands raised in surrender.

Mahogany pleaded in silence to fierce green.

Helena let a soft sigh escape, watching as the French lieutenant lowered her shoulder, the butt of the rifle dropping just a hair from the sight of green.

"Please, pardon," Helena gripping tighter at her girl clinging to her trousers behind her.

"I could never take a child's life," the French woman sighing as she lowered her rifle, her green eyes darting to moist dark ones peeking behind the woman.

"Mon Cheri?" Myka smiled as she bent down, her hand extending to the little girl as she started to smile.

"Mumma?" the little girls eyes widening as they both watched the trickle of blood slowly ebb from the corner of the French woman's mouth. Her body stiffened as she fell to her knees.

"Pedro?" Helena questioned as she watched her friend pull the knife out of the French blue jacket, wiping the blade on her shoulder as he pushed the invader down with the heel of his boot.

Helena clutched her girl close, turning her cheek away as the French lieutenant fell face down on the floor of their home.

XXX

"So, any more history lessons or can we now enjoy the day!" Peter huffed as he set down the two over-sized margaritas in front of the two women.

Both women smiling as they sipped on the frozen drinks Peter had set down on the table, the artifact retrieval being a quick one, all thankful as they found a small table near the shore on the Baja coast after the snag, bag and tag.

"So, Peter, is there substance provided?" Helena quirking an eyebrow as she sipped her drink through the straw.

"You better believe it, HG! Be right back with taco's for all!" him grinning as he rubbed his hands together. Myka rolling her eyes as she watched her partner and friend race to the canteen near the bar.

"So, was that enough of a history lesson as to why us American's stuff ourselves with spicy food and get drunk on bad Tequila?"

"I suppose that shall suffice," Helena shrugging her shoulders as she sipped her drink. Her eyes dancing up to meet shy green as they darted away from hers.

"I really did not get into the personal stories as the record keeping was suspect from that time," Myka shrugged, trying her best to ignore the red lips wrapping around the small straw they were now wrapped around.

"No worries, darling. I am sure the mothers were just as protective to their offspring as they are now,"


End file.
